Eminence Effect
by Arashi the Solar Phoenix
Summary: In a twist of cosmic fate, the Salarians and the asari's development is delayed by two millennia, and as a result, their discovery of the Citadel and rise to power coincides with a militarized humanity and its alien allies. With no central foundation established, the galaxy seems ripe for the taking in a brewing conflict that decides which faction(s) will reign supreme. HEAVILY AU


_**Eminence Effect**_

Greetings, everyone! For those of whom who are fans of my earlier work, and you're wondering where I've been, I'm not going to sugarcoat it: yes, I've been busy…ish with school, life events, and trying to maintain a serious relationship, but to be quite honest, I had lost the mojo for Mass Effect: the New Journey, and I doubt I'll ever get it back. It's not impossible, of course, but it's highly unlikely at this given juncture. Right now, I'm in online school, and I'm now working full time. So, I'm going to keeping a strict schedule and try to stick to it, so this one doesn't end up like TNJ. You'll see some elements from that story in here, and some that were going to be in the new story arc, but I didn't get around to.

But this idea honestly came out of nowhere and it refused to go away, even as I'm supposed to be writing a research paper. (insert side-eye from me). So, here are some things you need to know: 

This will be _**heavily**_ AU. This cannot be emphasized enough. I've essentially took the entire Mass Effect canon timeline, nuked it from orbit, then did it again, just to be sure, and then a third time for shit's and giggles. So, in other words, if something doesn't match canon: this is **intentional**. Pointing this out in reviews is pointless.

Some Mass Effect characters will make cameos, but not all of them. Some will be born, literally, thousands of years early, some might not be born until 30 years from the story time, or some not at all. That's solely at my discretion to the needs of the story.

The summary of this story implies that it will be a plot driven story. That might be true for like the first major arc, BUT after that? This will be character driven to the extreme.

This will NOT be a Humanity Fuck Yeah fic. Human technology will be different, and they'll have **some** advantages, of course, but it's _**not**_ going to be a one-sided shit stomp for either side. I don't want to say human technology will be "realistic" per-se, but it'll be much grittier and more grounded (with a few exceptions), compared to the fantastical Eezo based tech. I won't necessarily call humanity an underdog, like their canon counterparts were during the early decades after the Alliance was formed, but they'll earn each and every military and political victory.

Yes, like TNJ, the drell are a part of human society, and have been for almost two centuries, along with another OC race I've created. I'll either explain in-story or in a codex timeline. Who knows?

The Eminence government and how it works will be explained over the course of the story

Full Summary: AU, the asari and Salarians' development is delayed, and as a result, they discover the Citadel coinciding with a militarized humanity, looking to explore the rest of the galaxy. With no central foundation established, the galaxy seems ripe for the taking to which faction can outmaneuver who, in a conflict that's brewing.

Disclaimer: I make no claim of anything except my own work. Mass Effect is under the rights of Bioware and the publishing rights of Electronic Arts.

(Line break)

_When we discovered the Citadel with the Salarians, we honestly thought we would be able to take over the galaxy at our leisure, and considering our lifespans, we thought we had plenty of time. The Eminence changed all of that. _

-**Matriarch Thana, Principal Professor of History at the University of Athame **

**12 May 2360**

**0800 Hours, Unified Species Eminence Standard**

**Unknown System, 300 LY from the Core Worlds **

**Eminence Race Space Command Reconnaissance-Carrier **_**Clutch of Circumstance**_

Hearing a beeping noise, Lieutenant Tyson Lamont Greystone had awoken from his slumber. He briefly had toyed with the idea of getting five extra minutes of shut-eye, but decided against it, opting to fully get out of bed, and yawned for good measure. Going to a mirror, he took a hair brush to brush in a wave pattern design that many men of African descent had rocked for centuries. Looking across the room, he couldn't help but shake his head.

"Tarius, I know you're awake, "he said while stretching out his triceps. Tarius was a drell, and about Tyson's height, and the same rank. The two had met during Officer Candidate School, hit it off, and had been inseparable ever since.

Tarius, really not in the mood, groaned audibly. "Ty, I'm really not in the mood. Just five more minutes?" he pleaded. "It's our _one_ day off."

"Nope. You promised me. And don't tell me you forgot, because you and I both know that's impossible for your species." He turned away from Tarius and was over the sink, running hot water, while lathering himself up with shaving gel.

"Ugh. Fine. Whatever." The drell forced himself out of the bed and made his way through the closet the two shared. "If this is just a normal 5k run, I'm going to be severely disappointed," he lamented.

Tyson scoffed. "Oh, hell no. That's too easy. We're doing some weightlifting, and then some spar sessions with Staff Sergeant Hale, and finally to the range." He grinned. "We used to do this way back in Nairobi, growing up. I swear by it. How I got in shape for the Academy. "

Tarius had to stop himself from being snarky and replying that he'd have had to be in shape regardless because of the Eminence requiring every citizen to have some type of mandatory public service, be it military, or otherwise.

_The function of Citizen and Soldier are one and you exist to protect the Eminence. _The drell echoed the very foundation that was taught to all citizens from the cradle onward.

"I'll take your word for it," Tarius replied, picking out a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt. As he came up to the other sink, he told Tyson, "You humans and your incessant need to cut off your natural hair will never not be weird to me."

"Not all of us, can be like drell, T," Tyson dismissed, shaving with the grain in a smooth motion with a straight razor. "You got no facial hair, or any hair at all, and you have memory of a freaking flash drive." He finally finished and wiped himself clean with a hot towel. Tarius chose not to reply, knowing no matter how many times he had this conversation he'd never convince his best friend. Tyson had also dressed simply as well: black gym shorts, sneakers, and a shirt with their nomenclature: the SOAR, or Space Operations and Air Recon.

SOAR operatives like Tyson and Tarius were considered, strange even by ERSC standards. SOAR teams were trained in infantry-based combat, and trained as starfighter pilots, most commonly the F-52 Falchion. The concept, much like the stratocratic government of the Eminence, wasn't organic in the slightest, and was formed out of specific circumstances of the Terran War, and the scattered remnants of them. Because of the wildly different primary set of skills, SOAR teams often trained for 10 hours each day, with some days focusing on deep space infantry combat, while others may be as simple as flying maneuvers and swarm tactics with their Falchions.

Both SOAR pilots, felt they were ready, and Tyson unlocked the door, pressing a few keys on the pad, and then grabbed the latch on the door, which was a singular long metal rod at the 11 o'clock position, turned it to the 8 o'clock position, and pushed it outward with a bit of effort. Doors, if you could even technically call them that, on ERSC warships were extremely practical, and would be to a civilian the very first thing they'd notice as being different from a cruise freighter, among other things. There wasn't a single "door" like one would think inside a building on Earth or anywhere, to be found. Instead every room was designed by Eminence engineers to be able to be totally sealed, and independently carry oxygen for a specified amount of time in the event of an emergency. To Tyson, it was merely an odd, yet effective, blend of the designs of the airlocks of the centuries old International Space Station, and the hatches of the wet navies of the 21st century.

As a matter of fact, now that Tyson thought about it, this was the design philosophy of nearly every ship in the fleet, including the Circumstance. No space was wasted. Every room and piece of equipment had a direct and functional purpose towards the mission. Very few things was slick and "futuristic" as one would think, considering the Circumstance's role. The hallway that Tyson and Tarius wasn't cramped, but it wasn't spacious either, as they were in the belly of the carrier, safe from harm…at least in theory. After saluting a pair of passing marines, the duo came to an elevator, which took roughly three seconds to depressurize before letting them in, the doors opening with a distinct "hiss", and closed the same way. Punching in the code for the top deck, the elevator rose with proficiency. Not too fast, as to preserve its life cycle to reduce maintenance overhead, and not too slow so as for other sailors on the ship to get to where they were needed quickly

"Couple ways this plays out." Tyson said.

"Tell me."

"Either I kick your ass and you owe me a drink…"

Tarius smirked. "…or?"

Tyson grinned. "I kick your ass bad enough you owe me _two_ drinks."

"Oh, really? Now I got to kick your ass, and serve you some humble pie." Tarius laughed, and fist pumped his best friend as the elevator "hissed" open again.

"Good morning Lieutenants," a soft, very feminine, and very alien voice said, coming into view as the two stepped off. "I hope your slumber was peaceful." Both snapped salutes, which she returned.

"It was Commander Shiala, thanks," Tyson said, opening one palm and bowing slightly in respect. Lt. Commander Lys Shiala was a Seeran, and the first race humanity had discovered roughly a decade after discovering Faster-Than-Light travel. The Seeran were female dominated, with only 1 in 5 males in any given population, in extreme cases 1 in 8. Accordingly, their females were taller, and had higher reflexes. This was notable, as their ancestors had to evolve on a world where they had to predict the exact movements of the creatures that hunted them, and their prey to catch them. This trait miraculously survived into sapience, and modern Seeran soldiers (most of whom are female), had the ability to predict the subtle twitches muscles in their opponents, regardless of species. This was a form of precognition, which made it exceptionally difficult for humans and drell to beat them in close quarters combat without years of experience and training.

Their skin was remarkably similar to the drell in terms of texture, but the colors were widely different: a mix of light purple and tan, depending on where it was. Amathyst colored eyes, Four digit fingers, and long tentacle like protrusions came down from their head, moved freely like human females with braided hair.

Commander Shiala was like most of her species, tall, standing at roughly six inches above six feet, lean and muscular, and wore the ERSC dress uniform with pride: which was nearly all black, silver epaulets with an orange oakleaf with a rapier going through the center of the insignia, and various chest ribbons.

"Are you two on the way for a run?" she asked curiously, tilting her head.

Tarius shook his head. "No, ma'am. Tys—Lieutenant Greystone," He quickly corrected, "and I, planned on doing some weightlifting, sparring, and then go to the range."

Shiala shook her head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you gentlemen, but the gym is closed for today, for maintenance issues. We almost had an accident with the artificial gravity chambers. Captain Raines, has ordered it closed indefinitely to the issues are fixed."

"Ugh, man." Tyson didn't even try to hide his disappointment.

"Is the range open at least?"

"Yes," she confirmed. But then gave them a once over. "Though I don't think your attire would be appropriate," she lightly joked. "Either way, I'm sure Griff could use the company." Before Tyson could reply, her communicator pinged.

"Commander, Captain Raines requests your presence on the bridge. He said it was urgent."

Shiala frowned but maintained her composure. "Understood, ensign. I'll be there as soon as I can—" she was interrupted by the sound of the intercom over the whole ship.

"All SOAR teams report to the bridge immediately. I, repeat, ALL SOAR teams report to the Bridge Immediately!"

Tyson and Tarius immediately went on alert. "Should we change?"

"No," she said affirmatively. "Come with me." The two followed her on the elevator, and a multitude of thoughts were running through the two pilot soldier's heads. Were they under attack? Possible, but unlikely, as SOAR was called to the bridge, and not to the hangar bay. Perhaps scattered remnants of the Terrans? It seemed far fetched, but it was the most logical.

"Terran activity, ma'am?" Tarius decided to voice, as the elevator rose up.

"I am unsure," she said honestly. "ESD hasn't been able to confirm the Terran threat has been neutralized, completely, and it's unlikely we ever will, given the enormous amount of places there are to hide."

There was a grimace between the two. The ESD, or Eminence Security Directorate was the sole provider of all intelligence matters of humanity and their alien brethren. They were spooks who did their jobs as effectively as one would expect with their reach and power. No one dared to cross them.

A stop and a hissing noise indicated they were at their destination, the doors slid open, and the trio crossed the threshold unto the bridge.

"XO on the bridge!"

"At ease, sailors," Shiala replied, walking down a few steps, to the main holotable. Captain Raines wasn't on the bridge, likely in his war room, for whatever reason. The bridge of the Circumstance wasn't fancy by any means, despite the technology under the hood. Unlike civilian ships, there were no transparent glass computer monitors, elaborate holograms everywhere. In fact, every single monitor and screen was encased in layers of protective material, that held the circuits together. Everything from comms equipment, to video conferencing, even to physical buttons instead of touchscreen was designed with redundancy, and not aesthetics.

"Drop Officer, are you spinning radar?" Tyson asked, knowing protocol.

"Yes, sir. Still turning. Picture's clear."

"Good," Shiala nodded. "Engaging time…one minute. Weapons online. Reduce our radar signature by thirty percent." Truth be told, Shiala didn't know what was out there or even if it was necessary. But she wasn't going to let the _Circumstance_ be caught with its pants down. Not on her watch.

Within the minute, SOAR pilots from various parts of the ships were coming in, some were dressed in their flight suits, and others, like Tyson and Tarius, were in their training gear, none to please to have their workouts cut short.

"Didn't even get a chance to enjoy our day off, for a minute, huh, LTs?" a fair skinned brunette woman, in full flight gear said coming up to the two, along with a human of East Asian descent. Lieutenant Junior Grade Sara Hagan and Ensign Daniel Nguyen were relatively new SOAR operatives, having only left flight school six months prior to being assigned to the Circumstance, under Tyson. They were green but had a lot of potential.

"Yeah, I ain't gonna lie, I'm feeling a type of way," Tarius replied, shaking his head. Sara gave Tyson and Tarius a small hug, while Dan simply acknowledged them both with a nod, preferring to stay silent.

"Seal the bridge!" Came the order of Captain Raines, as he excited his war room. "At ease sailors." They weren't as rigid as before, but they didn't relax. Raines sighed. "I'm going to get straight to the point: this came down from the top, from the Imperator, himself, and the Security Council." Tyson's heart started to beat just a little faster and gulped for good measure. "ESD got some really weird readings from their probes sent outside of our borders." A pause. "Element Zero readings…"

Everyone in the bridge's blood went cold. Aside from the little quantities of Element Zero found on Mars two centuries ago, you could count the number of additional deposits of eezo on one hand. While Eminence engineers understood in theory you could use the material to go faster than light, the sheer lack of quantity in this sector forced them to come up with their own version of FTL travel: the Drop Engine.

"Sir…is this a potential first contact?"

"It's possible. Yes." Raines confirmed. "We're the only carrier nearby, but the brass is sending us the four destroyers, a cruiser, and a light resupply ship. They'll be arriving in the next half-hour." He turned to the holotable and pressed a button. A spherical representation of the system appeared, and a red dot showed where the readings were coming from. Whether it was a moon or drifting asteroid, the probes couldn't tell, as their technology was over 70 years old and failing.

"Lieutenant Greystone," Raines acknowledged. "You and your team will launch first and be our eyes and ears. We'll turn off sensor and radar…just in case. If there are no hostile air threats…or even no threats at all, you're going boots on the ground. SOAR Teams Two-through-Five will give you air support, and you'll have your Falchions on standby."

"Understood, Captain. SOAR Team 1 is prepared for tasking."

"What are we looking for?" Sara asked leaning on the table, staring at the red blinking dot.

"We don't know," Raines frowned, sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I wish I had more intel, but we simply _won't_ know until we get there."

"Don't be, sir. We knew what we signed up for," Tarius affirmed standing up straight, proud to be of service.

"I'll have Staff Sergeant Hale's Marines on standby," Shiala said, which Captain Raines gave his blessing. "If this is a first contact and it turns hostile, we shall not go down without giving the rest of the fleet as much data as possible. Hale and three others will accompany you. Time for the Marines to earn their wings." There was an appreciative nod. They were good, no doubt, but it never hurt to have backup.

"Who else knows about this?" Ensign Nguyen spoke up, to the surprise of everyone, Tyson included.

The captain didn't miss a beat. "Imperator Xavier and the Security Council is debriefing the higher echelons of the Presidium and the Archons, as we speak. Aside from that, the only people aware of this are the people in this room. We've quietly gone to SABER 3 readiness on all of the colonies."

"I see."

"Are there any more questions?"

No one said a word. "You all have your orders. SOAR Teams, I'd suggest you eat a light breakfast just so you won't be running on fumes. Let's make it count and make history." He snapped his heels together. "Eminence Aeternum!"

Everyone on the bridge followed his lead and chorused, "Eminence Aeternum!"

Tyson and the rest of SOAR Team 1 filed out quickly, eager to get a small meal and get dressed for the upcoming mission ahead.

Shiala decided to talk to the captain, privately. "This is big risk." She had stated the obvious.

"I know," Raines agreed, as he watched a Pegasus dropship heading towards a dock with the Circumstance, its pilot expertly using momentum and shutting off the engines to "drift" toward the ship while saving fuel. "But it's the best chance we have, right now."

"Are they at least sending us a DRAGMA team?"

"No." He sighed. "No team is close enough, right now. We're on a time table here."

His XO gave a deep sigh. "Then let us hope we can manage."

"Sir! Drop signatures detected. They've arrived," Circumstances drop officer reported. On the starboard bow of the Circumstance, there were several blue flashes of light, and four Icarus-class destroyers, one Tempest-class light cruiser, and a Demeter-class supply ship, appeared in real-space roughly five kilometers apart and drifting towards the carrier. The Icarus-class destroyer was roughly six hundred meters in length, with its primary armament being its gun batteries, and missile pods, and small compliment of fighters. While the destroyers didn't have a fixed rail-gun like its larger cousins in the fleet, it's gun batteries still packed a punch, able to send out slugs at extremely high velocity. The Tempest-class cruiser was essentially a scaled-up version of the Icarus.

"We're being hailed."

"Rog. Patch it."

On the Holographic table, a young human male appeared, in his battle dress. "Captain Raines, Commander Darien Sinclair, of the ERSC Nova," he introduced himself.

"A pleasure, commander," he returned the greeting, professionally. "Are your units prepared for tasking?"

"Of course. We're ready on your go."

"Good. My team will send you the coordinates. Drop out seven hundred kilometers from our bow, my team will launch, and you go in ahead of us," Raines ordered.

"Aye, sir. Godspeed. Eminence Aeternum." Sinclair then cut the connection.

"Drop officer? Care to do the honors?"

"Aye, aye captain," he replied, pressing buttons on the holotable, and bringing some of the screens that were hanging from the ceiling to punch in coordinates.

Shiala picked up a phone like device and began broadcasting to the ship. "All hands! Report to your drop stations. I repeat, all hands to your drop stations." Klaxons started blaring across the ship, as sailors and marines scrambled to their designated drop stations. On the carrier itself, on its runway, pillars started to rise from inside the ship, and they began to pulse with a blue hue, and it began to engulf the ship, as the drop engine was being activated. This same blue hue was engulfing the escort fleet as well, and the subsequent pulses of light would've hurt the eyes of the crew had they not had filters polarizing the glass.

"Switch is set!"

"Go for drop!"

Everyone braced themselves, but they still felt that initial pull of momentum, that nearly knocked everyone off their feet, as the fleet excited real space and entered Drop space. For nearly thirty seconds, it was a bumpy ride, with the carrier shaking violently. Anything that wasn't nailed down—which was very few things, admittedly,-tossed and turned, and the officers on the bridge had to hold on to their railings at the station. Soon, the worst was over, and the drop stabilized, and the ship was now sailing through smoothly.

"Drop has stabilized, Captain. ETA to our arrival…. forty-five minutes." A bit sooner than expected, but nonetheless, acceptable.

"Excellent. I'll be in my war room until we arrive. You have the conn, Commander," he told Shiala, which she nodded.

(line break)

ERSC Clutch of Circumstance

15 minutes before launch

There was a bit of comfortable silence, among SOAR Team 1, as they rode down the lift towards the armory, and subsequently the hangar deck thereafter. There was no anxiousness or fear, or if there was, they didn't show it. Doing a quick buddy check of each other's combat flight suits, they each gave a thumbs up.

"Sergeant Hale is riding with me, Corporal Dunn is with Tarius, Ramirez with you Sara, and Foley is with you Dan."

"Just hope none of them throw up when we launch," Sara joked, which earned a few laughs. Even Dan had to smirk a bit, knowing that it was virtually a rite of passage for basically every fighter pilot in the fleet.

"I'm not cleaning it up," Tarius added, as the elevator stopped, and the four headed into the armory, to be greeted by none other than Petty Officer First Class Patrick Ryan. The red head gave the team a grin, behind the bullet and energy proof glass, where various weapons were being attended to by automated systems, pullies, and robotic arms.

"Well I'll be damned, if it ain't SOAR goddamn team 1," Ryan's Texan accent was thick. "Thought you four had forgotten about little ol' me. It's been awhile," he said, pressing an icon on his end to allow the team to choose their own weapons.

"Yeah, yeah I know Pat, it's been a hot minute," Tyson said, speaking to the sailor on a personal basis. "What have you been up to?" Tyson's choice of weapon was simple: he chose the ERSC's M-55 assault rifle: Ballistic weapon, 36 round magazines, and a holographic sight.

"Shoot, LT, it's been nothing but routine for me, aside from that one close-call two days ago." He sighed, embarrassment clearly on his face.

"Close call? What do you mean?" Sara had asked. After going back and forth on her options, she settled for an AA-20 automatic shotgun, and their associated shells. It was armor piercing and would put down any aliens should they encounter them.

"So, you ever been zoned out, and have your brain is on autopilot?" They all raised an eyebrow, but nodded, nonetheless. He continued. "Well my dumbass almost entered the ordnance room without a mask on."

The four couldn't help but laugh. "Holy shit, are you serious?!"

"As a damn heart attack," he confirmed. Oxygen was strictly regulated on warships, as they obviously should be, and there were parts of the Circumstance that were completely devoid of breathable atmosphere, the ordnance room being one of several, for obvious reasons. Sailors who worked there wore a breathable mask, while performing maintenance duties.

"Glad you're still with us, Pat," Tarius told him, while picking out an energy weapon, the EC-80, a slim, assault rifle modeled aesthetically after the ballistic AK rifles. Dan chose a EBR-70, energy battle rifle.

"Yeah, me too. If you encounter any hostiles, give the fuckers a warm welcome from the Circumstance."

"Will, do."

The team excited to the left, and came out to the circumstances internal hangar bay which was buzzing with activity. Crew chiefs were fueling up Falchions, and arming the fighters with ballistic slugs, 50mm canons, and of course, their trademarked heat sinking missiles. Laptops were connected to the internal computer, going through hundreds of petabytes of meta data, and diagnostic software.

"Sirs! Your Falchions are up on bay 1, Sergeant Hale and his waiting for you."

"Thanks chief," said Tyson. He turned to the rest of the team, "Let's get it done!" They all sprinted towards their fighters. Slick, and all black, the F-52 Falchion was the primary Air/Space interdiction fighter of the Eminence. It was dual positional, variable sweep design for a multitude of roles including atmospheric flight, bombing runs, dogfighting, and ship assault. It could switch between these on a dime, which was why it was crucial in the Terran War.

Tyson's fighter was being attended to by a crew chief, and someone was already in the backseat of the fighter. Climbing up, he was greeted by Sergeant Hale, a dark skinned man of Saomoan descent, who nodded to the LT.

"You set, Sergeant?"

"Good to go, sir," Hale replied, swallowing a bit.

"Don't worry, Sergeant, you'll be fine," he assured him, easily noticing his discomfort. Tyson sat down in the cockpit and took note of the OLED displays: One large screen for radar and weapons, one smaller screen on the left for engines and hull integrity, and the left a hardened QWERTY laptop for sensory inputs, and an embedded high-definition camera, which served as a display for superluminal videoconferencing with other Falchion pilots, STRATCOM, or any other communication needed. He didn't flip the red switch which would've turned the engines on wholesale but did sync his heads up display.

Oxygen levels were good. Artificial audio emulators were working perfectly, nozzles reported no significant levels outside of the norm.

"**All Hands, one minute to destination. One minute to destination." **

Tyson could feel the crane latch onto the Falchion, and in one smooth motion, as the launch bay doors opened, the crane picked the fighter off of the ground, and sat it inside another bay which the doors in-front of Tyson closed. As the launch bay door to the hangar behind him closed, the room started to depressurize to the vacuum of space. Tyson could see Hale's heartbeat rise faster as sound seemingly cut off, obviously a new sensation for the marine.

"It's alright Sarge, just relax." Flipping a switch, Hale heard a computerized voice say:

**AUDIO EMULATORS ACTIVATED. **

Hale could "hear" the engines, and the "sounds" of the fighters of SOAR 1, moving through the launch bay simultaneously. "You guys good?"

"All green here, sir," Tarius replied, he went through another diagnostic. "Reaction Control Systems are functioning as normal."

"Nozzles good. Engines, good," Sara reported.

"Weapons systems online," Dan said.

"Tower, this is SOAR-1, we're locked and ready to go," he reported after opening a channel to the ATC Mini-boss.

"Tower advises caution and high alert. You'll be launched as soon as we influx into the system. How copy?"

"1-1 copies all."

"1-2, copy," said Tarius

"1-3, copy," Said Sara.

"1-4, copy," said, Dan.

"You're go for launch on influx in….3…..2….1!"

The Clutch of Circumstance had finally returned to real space, along with the rest of the flotilla. In less than two seconds afterwards, SOAR Team 1, had launched one-by-one, in .5 seconds after one another, banked right, and headed toward the signal, eager to explore the unknown.

No one could prepare them for what was coming.

(line break)

Alright, that's it, ya'll! Until next time! I was gonna write a bit more, but then I thought, nah, this seemed like a good stopping point. 

If there are any spelling or grammar errors, I promise to fix them as soon as I possibly can, because I finished this before heading towards, work tonight.

As you can probably tell, there are a ton of references to events, people, and factions that I didn't elaborate on. This is intentional, not give everything away. I know there's not much "Mass Effect" in this first chapter, but I didn't feel it was completely necessary considering the subsequent chapters will more than make up for it.

So, if you're interested in seeing me continue, say so in a review! Constructive feedback is always welcome.


End file.
